


My Midnight Rose

by Zero_Zero_One



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Character Death, M/M, Park Seonghwa is kinda a dick, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 20:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20103244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zero_Zero_One/pseuds/Zero_Zero_One
Summary: Mingi spent hundreds of years alone after Jongho's murder. Every year, he would mourn his death, alone.Until one day, he sees a boy with round cheeks stars in his eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

Jangsiti was a small town. Everyone knew everyone, and secrets never stayed secrets long.

So he shouldn't have been surprised when he came home, and the love of his long, long life laid on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood.

Jangsiti was a small town. And small towns never took to outliers well.

The night was cold, but the bitter chill could not stop him from using all of his might to drag the dying boy up the small hill that lay outside of town.

"Mingi." The smaller rasped. His hands shook as he reached up to caress the hand that grabbed his shoulder. "Mingi, stop."

Mingi, the ever happy God of Plants, looked down at the small boy, tears running down his face. He could barely bring himself to look at the other without dropping to his knees and praying, even though he knew no other God than his friends, and if they were going to help, they would have come to their aid like knights on white horses.

"I can't, I need to find help, you won't mak-"

"Please, Mingi." Mingi felt his heart drop when he heard the sob. The small boy hated to show emotion, and crying was what he hated most.

Mingi dropped to his knees, his body succumbing to the anguish he felt. "Jongho!" He wailed. "Please don't leave me! Please! I can't live without you!"

Jongho gave a small laugh, reaching up to caress Mingi's face. "But you must. Without you, the plants would not grow." A small smile spread across his lips. "Like those red ones, the ones I loved."

Mingi reached down to the ground, wincing when his palm met warm liquid. He shut his eyes, and from under his palm a flower grew, blooming before Jongho's very eyes.

"There called roses, and I'll make you a million if you just  _ stay- _ "

"He can't." A cold voice cut in. Mingi looked up, panicked.

Before them stood Seonghwa. His striking blonde hair was being pulled mercilessly by the wind, his eyes were staring holes at the couple on the ground. He was dressed in a toga, refusing to conform to the modern clothes of mortals.

Mingi froze for a second.  _ Seonghwa is God of Knowledge and Medicines. He can  _ ** _save him._ **

"Seonghwa, please help him. If anyone can it's you!" Mingi pleads.

"It is far too late for that." Was the crisp reply. Seonghwa looks down at Jongho with distaste before adding, "and I wouldn't even if I could help him."

"Wha-"

"You are much to invested in the affairs of this mortal. You are neglecting your duties, and I will not stand for it any longer." With every word, more emotion seeped into the blonde's voice. He was screaming by the end.

"That's not true-" Mingi cried out.

"Do not interrupt me!" Seonghwa glares. "It's time for spring, but only this town has any flowers. You have made him the center of your attention, when you should be focused on the seasons and making sure everything blooms and dies on time." Seonghwa turns his back to them and starts to pace. "If the townspeople had not done anything, I might have been forced to take matters into my own hands."

"You bastard!" Mingi yelled. He started to stand up, anger and adrenaline coursing through his veins, but a hand on his tunic stopped him.

"He's right, Mingi. This may be for the best." Jongho whispered, his lips dripping crimson blood.

Those words drained everything from Mingi. He fell back to the ground with a  _ thud _ , his shoulders slumping as he folds in on himself.

Seonghwa was right. Mingi had neglected his job, and that was why he left that morning. He was rushing to grow flowers all across Asia, and when he returned he had found Jongho on the floor, stabbed.

The people of Jangsiti had realised that Mingi was more than Jongho's friend, and they had been disgusted. They had to cleanse themselves of the man who loved another man, all because of Mingi. If Mingi never got attached, never kissed him, Jongho would have never been hurt.

This is all Mingi's fault.

_ This is all my fault. _

"Jongho, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry. I never meant for this to happen." Mingi sobs.

Jongho looks at Mingi, and sees how broken he is. His heart breaks from the sobs that wrech themselves from the God, and he doesn't know which one hurts more, the wound or his heart.

"Mingi." Jongho reaches for Mingi's face, caressing it. He takes a moment to try and memorize his face. The strong jaw, small eyes, and the pretty pink lips. Jongho pulls together the last of his strength and gives Mingi one last kiss.

"I love you, Mingi. More than the stars in the sky and the water in the streams. I regret nothing."

In what feels like years, Jongho closes his eyes, and his heart stops beating.

Mingi clutches Jongho close to his chest, running his fingers through Jongho's soft black hair. He whispers softly to the Jongho, until the tears on his face dry and his hiccuping breath slows down.

Seonghwa watches this and can't help but feel sad. Mingi obviously loved the boy, and it hurt to see one of his closest friends so broken. "Mingi, it had to be done."

But he gets no response, as Mingi stands up, dragging Jongho's body further up the hill. Roses bloomed in their wake, beautifully red with vicious thorns.

When they got to the top, Mingi sat Jongho down and placed his hands on his chest. A bright light surrounded the two, both blinding and warm.

When the light faded, only Mingi stood there, and a small tree blooming at his side.

The sadness had left his face, and all that could be seen was rage. Seonghwa had never been scared of Mingi, but the look on his face made a chill go up his spine. "Don't do anything rash." But Seonghwa went ignored.

Mingi wanted to watch the world burn, but he would settle on one village.


	2. Chapter 2

"Clothes?"

"Check."

"Money?"

"Check."

"Camera?"

"Check."

"Lube?"

"Yeosang, we are not fucking the locals." Jongho sighs, shaking his head in disappointment.

Yeosang gives a laugh from across their small dorm. "I mean, it'd be relaxing."

Jongho scoffs, "This whole trip is to relax."

"I'm taking some, just incase." Jongho can hear the smirk in his voice, so he reaches for one of the pillows on his bed and throws it without looking up.

It hits its mark, if Yeosang's  _ oof _ is anything to go by.

"Remind me where we're going again." Jongho says, looking back into his suitcase in order to go through a mental checklist.

"Some place called Jangsiti."  _ Toiletries.  _ "Some travel agent emailed me with a great deal."  _ Phone charger. Walking shoes.  _ "Jeong Yu-something."  _ ID. Credit card.  _ "It was such a great deal, and I was like, 'this must be fate. A bundle for two broke college students?  _ Perfect.' _ "

"Uh-huh, that sounds great. Now, why are we going? A small town must have something going on. Even you wouldn't pick something that boring." Jongho shoves his suitcase under the bed before he gets up, stretching his arms above his head before he sits on the bed.

Jongho looks over to Yeosang and sees the pink haired man was sprawled across his bed, foot over the edge, almost touching his overstuffed suitcase. He looks so carefree, and Jongho can't help but envy that. The closer to the trip they get, the more dread that seems to sink into Jongho's mind.

Jongho flops onto the bed. "Can you toss me my pillow?" Said pillow flies across the room, hitting the wall and sliding down to Jongho's side. "Thanks." He mumbles, grabbing the pillow and holding it his chest.

"They have this huge festival that's happening. Really pretty. I can't remember why, though." Yeosang says.

Jongho sighs. He's looking forward to the trip, and God knows he could use some relaxation, but he can't shake the bad feeling about it. If he brought it up to Yeosang, he'd say he was overreacting or ate something bad, so Jongho keeps his mouth shut. "Sounds fun." He mumbles instead.

Jongho hears more than sees Yeosang get up from the bed and enter the bathroom. He hears the sink start and Yeosang start to brush his teeth. Jongho had brushed his earlier that night, so he just laid down on his bed and shut his eyes.

Their flight took off at 4 the next morning, so Jongho wanted to be extra rested.

The water stopped, and Yeosang walked back out. He also laid down, uttering small " 'night" which Jongho returns.

Silence falls, and Jongho goes to sleep.

<><><><>

"Why do you do this?" Yunho asks as he sees Mingi walk toward the door. He has a small bag packed, hoisted over one shoulder and keys in his hand.

Mingi sighs. He was tired of this, the questions and ridicules from his friends about going to Jangsiti to honour Jongho. They wouldn't understand, having never been in love. Well, San and Wooyoung don't count, because they are both Gods and will never have to have one ripped away from the other.

Actually, Mingi was tired of everything. They say time heals all wounds, but his seems to grow everyday. He just wishes he could join Jongho, but Gods are not given the option to die.

"It's all I have left of him." A pause. "This is all I can do for him." Mingi would have begged Yunho for a reincarnation, but he never reincarnates a soul that doesn't have any large regrets.

_ I regret nothing _ .

Mingi's heart hurts, imagining that day, but it feels like he's forced to relive it every second of his life. It's been hundreds of years, and cities and empires have risen and fallen, but time seems to stand still for him.

Yunho looks deep in thought, before a mischievous smile breaks across his face. "What if you had something else? Something better?"

"What do you mean?" Mingi inquires, but Yunho has already turned around and walked away.

"Have fun on your trip!" Mingi hears Yunho call out.

That was odd, if Mingi has to say so. But he brushes it off, and heads out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

When they get off the plane, they are greeted by a short man with bright red hair holding a sign that read  _ Kang Yeosang and Choi Jongho.  _ Jongho turns to ask Yeosang who it is, but Yeosang had already pushed through the crowd amd was standing in front of the man.

"Hi, I'm Yeosang. You must be Hongjoong?" Yeosang greets.

"Yes, that's me. I will be your tour guide this weekend. Nice to meet you." The man, Hongjoong, smiled and held out his hand for them to shake.

Yeosang shakes his hand. Jongho pulls Yeosang down so he could whisper,"Can we afford a tour guide? We can barely afford food, how can we afford a tour guide?"

Yeosang pulls away, a casual smile on his face. "Relax, he was apart of the bundle."

Jongho rolls his eyes. He shakes Hongjoong's hand, smiling politely. "I'm Jongho. Pleasure to meet you."

Hongjoong smiles. "The pleasure is all mine." He claps his hands, looking at the two for a second, before he holds up his finger and points toward the conveyor belt. "Let's get your bags, and then I'll show you around."

<><><><>

Mingi sighs, looking out the window of his small hotel room. He sees a bustling town, full of decor and crowds so large that peoples' shoulders touched as they walked past each other.

Every year, the festival gets bigger, and it fills his stomach with bitter anger. They believe that the roses grow for the town, but the flowers blossom in the name of a life that the town took years ago. Every gathers on that day, but never for the right reasons. Never for Jongho.

He pulls the blinds shut, turning around so he can rummage through his bag to find his wallet. He may not need to eat, but the schedule of eating and sleeping at certain times makes the days past faster.

He sighs. He walks out of the hotel, shivering at the cold wind that greets him.

_ Gods, I miss you Jongho. _

<><><><>

Jongho sneezed.

It must have been from all the pollen that the flowers that lined the street created. Jongho yawns, tired of walking. He just wants to find a place to sit and admire the colorful stalls that lined the streets.

Hongjoong had lead them to their, admittedly fancy, hotel, telling them the street names and fun tidbits of certain buildings. His favorite so far had been the small chapel that sat in the middle of town. Hongjoong had told them that in the past the entire city had burned down, killing everyone. The only thing that survived was a single house, so settlers turned it into a chapel and built the town around it.

Yeosang was stopped at a stall, trying on all different types of flower crowns. He would look at Jongho and Hongjoong, who stood in front of Jongho, and ask their opinions. Hongjoong would nods enthusiastically and give small critics, but Jongho Just gave a thumbs up or thumbs down.

Eventually, Yeosang purchases a yellow and blue crown, and they head off.

As Yeosang fidgets with the crown on his head, Jongho taps on Hongjoong's shoulder. "So, what is this festival even for?"

Hongjoong seems to brighten at the question. "I'm glad you asked!" He says cheerily. He pulls the two into the small opening of an alley.

"You remember how the city burned down?" Both Jongho and Yeosang nod. "Well, every year on the night it happens, a rose garden blooms in one night. They say its the Gods apologizing for what happened."

Yeosang nods, but Jongho can't help but ponder, "Do the Gods really care about that? Wouldn't they have more important things to do?"

"That's what I thought too," Hongjoong starts, "but when you see it, you can't help but believe it. It's truly magical."

The answer sate Jongho's curiosity, and they turn to leave the alley.

"Jongho!" Jongho faintly hears.

He turns to Yeosang, nudging him when he sees him looking toward the candy stall on the other side of the street. "Did you call me?"

Yeosang looks puzzled. "No."

Jongho shrugs it off. He must've imagined it.

<><><><>

Mingi walked out of the restaurant, his stomach full and warm from the noodles he just ate.

He starts the trek back to his hotel, glancing at stalls to see if anything peeks his interest, like the shell necklace that Wooyoung wanted that had become popular among mortals. Some 'Vsco' thing.

He easily looks above the crowd with his height, and as his eyes glance over everything, his heart drops.

The soft hair, the full cheeks, the smile that makes the world seems brighter, and eyes that hold the stars.

Mingi shakes his head frantically, but he was still there.

_ Jongho. _

He barely realised he had yelled the name before he was rushing through the crowd, shoving people out of his way so he could see him, hear him, touch him, at least once.

But when he got to the alley where he saw him, Jongho was gone.

Mingi knew he hadn't hallucinated, Jongho had been too real. But, how was he here?

So many things ran through his head, but one thought stuck out.

_ I need to call Yunho. _


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yo, saw a comment that asked me to update amd I was like "Wow, people actually like this?" And so I wrote something short so I can get a better chapter up (hopefully) soon

Night felt like it fell faster than ever before. Hongjoong had shown them around the entire town, showing them hidden treasures that they would have never found by them self. He took them to a small cat cafe with, according to Hongjoong, the best coffee in town. They went and played games at a line of booths, ignoring the fact that they seemed to be the only adults in the crowd of children around them. Jongho had managed to win a giant stuffed dolphin at the hammer test-your-strength game. He even managed to find an apple stall, where he gladly bought 3 apples and split them for himself, Yeosang, and Hongjoong.

Before he knew it, Hongjoong, who Jongho was starting to consider more of a friend than a tour guide, had declared that it was time for him to head off.

"If you guys want to be exhausted tomorrow, keep on going, but I'm going to go sleep so I don't pass out before the end of the festival. I suggest you do the same."

He offers to take them back to their hotel, but Yeosang refuses, saying he'll know thw way. Hongjoong offers a last wave and a final farewell before he departs, pointing in the direction of their hotel before he left, ‘just in case.’ 

Jongho felt relaxed. He had so much pent up energy for this trip, which was quite the opposite of what he wanted, but now his shoulders slouched with all of the tension was gone.

They do heed Hongjoong’s advice, as the red haired man had warned them of the long night they would endure to see the flowers bloom.

“We could always take a nap.” Yeosang offered, still trying to convince Jongho that they could stay out longer. Jongho was half convinced, when he remembered that Yeosang had happily packed lube, and was likely looking for a reason to use it.

The hotel was large, luxurious, and seemingly out of their price range. When he mentioned his worry to Yeosang, he had whispered  _ the bundle _ too close to Jongho’s ear for comfort.

When they got to their room, Jongho walked to his luggage and pulled out his bed clothes.

Yeosang purses his mouth. “Are you actually going to bed?” 

“Yes. Some of us don't thrive on two hours of sleep.”

“ _ Three _ ,” Yeosang hisses, before laughing. He collapses onto the bed. He picked up the remote and started to surf through the channels on the TV. Jongho watches him, slightly jealous of his carefree nature.

Jongho has always envied Yeosang for it, never being able to shrug off, well,  _ anything  _ like Yeosang can. Jongho always felt like something was wrong, even after he double checked the sink and triple checked the lock.

Yeosang sighs, throwing the remote onto Jongho’s bed. He pulls out his phone. “Hey, I think Netflix added  _ Haikyuu  _ if you want to watch with me.”

Jongho contemplates, always weak Hinata, the little volleyball boy an absolute ray of sunshine, but eventually decides against it. “I'm gonna get ready for bed.” He grabs his toiletries from his bag and heads to the bathroom, not before poking his head out and saying “Call me when Oikawa shows.”

Jongho smiles through his mouth of toothpaste when Yeosang shouts “Will do.” 

Jongho rinsed up and put on his bed clothes, and walked back to his bed.

He always liked to complain about hotels, like  _ the bed has springs longer than my  _ [redacted]  _ and i felt them all night long _ or  _ the pillows were too stiff,  _ but he literally cannot complain about the cloud he seems to fall into.

He's out like a light before Yeosang’s  _ Haikyuu  _ intro ends.

<><><><>

Mingi swear Yunho didn't answer his calls on purpose. He planned this. He  _ knows  _ Yunho planned this.

Mingi wants to scream, and wants to cry, but mostly wants to eat his weight in noodles in order to stop himself from doing the two pre-mentioned actions.

_ Jongho’s alive.  _ His  _ Jongho’s been reincarnated. _

Yunho has always been kind. Yunho has always helped him with his problems. But  _ Gods  _ Yunho is about to catch Mingi’s hands if he doesn't pick up. He has some explaining to do.

If Yunho doesn't explain, Mingi may break. He has to know this isn't a joke, that Jongho is alive. That Mingi has  _ another chance. _

Mingi is about to go looking for him. Is about to go knock on every door, leave no rock unturned, when his phone lights up.

_ Yunho  _ 🐻 stares up at him and he pounces on the phone, not being able to answer it fast enough.

“Hello?”

“Don not  _ hello  _ me you motherfucker. You brought him back, didn't you?” Mingi almost growls into the phone.

“I'm sorry you'll have to be more specific. As God of life I-”

“Do not toy with me.” Mingi says. “You brought Jongho back, right? Tell me you did. Please.” Mingi’s voice cracks on the last word, sorrow and  _ hope  _ bleeding into that one word.

Yunho is silent for a second. “Oh, that.” He laughs nervously. “Yeah, you see, that happened a while ago, slipped my mind-” He was interrupted by Mingi’s sob.

“Hey, if you didn't like the gift that much-” 

“Thank you.” Mingi sobs. “Thank you. I can never repay you, this means so much to me-”

Yunho coos, and Mingi can't find it in himself to be offended. “Bubs, your rambling. There’s no need to repay me. This is for my sake more than yours. Watching you mope and groan has been Hell.”

Yunho spends a few more minutes calming Mingi, whispering soothing words that just barely overshadow the thoughts running through Mingi's mind. Yunho hangs up, leaving Mingi to his own thoughts.

  
_ Jongho's alive. I can try again _ .  ** _I won't fail this time_ ** .


	5. Chapter 5

Morning came like a slap to the face. Jongho had the best sleep of his life. No bad dreams, no backache, and it would have been perfect of Yeosang had not woken him up when Oikawa appeared because  _ it was a joke _ .

Jongho woke up refreshed, but still didn't want to leave the cloud of a bed. Hongjoong knocking on there door was the only reason he dragged himself out of bed, very begrudgingly. Yeosang, the brat, had clung to Hongjoong and fake cried, saying how he wanted to stay in bed all day.

“You can stay in bed all day if you want, but the blooming happens tonight. I get payed either way, so go nuts.”

This made Yeosang get ready, pushing Jongho to the side of the mirror in order to brush his teeth. Jongho knew there was no point in fighting with him, especially not in front of Hongjoong.

Hongjoong sat himself on Yeosang's bed, daintily crossing his legs. "Okay," he claps. "Itinerary for the day."

Jongho says "Hit it," and Yeosang shouts a muffled "Surprise me."

Hongjoong laughs. "First things first. Everyday that this happens, the chapel holds a ceremony. Big thing, probably the most people you'll ever see in such a small space." 

Jongho raises his hand, and yaps when Yeosang walks out from behind him and promptly slaps it back down. "The church that survived the fire, right?" 

"Exactly," Hongjoong smiles. If he smiles so often, his face must be sore. Or he has strong cheek muscles? Jongho makes a mental note to Google if cheek muscles are a thing later.

Yeosang finishes getting dressed, finishing his outfit with the blue and yellow flower crown he bought yesterday.

They head out, Hongjoong leading the way, saying, "We have to get there early if we want a spot."

  
  


<><><><>

Every year, they hold a sermon for the event. Every year, they crowd into Jongho's home, and praise the Gods who couldn't save him that day.

Every year, Mingi makes himself go, only for the fact that they left everything. They left his nightstand and table, that Jongho had built himself and hauled into the house. They left his bed, and even though someone made it up, nice and pretty like Jongho never bothered to do, they left his blanket and pillows.

Most importantly, they left the drawings that Jongho made. Scattered on the table, Jongho had left the his works of arts. The picture of the apples that bloomed on the tree that was behind his house (Mingi still mourns not saving it, knowing how Jongho treasured the red fruit). He had a drawing of himself, that he made in a mirror as a present for Mingi (Mingi still has thoughts of stealing it. Treasuring it like he should've). Most painfully, was a picture of Mingi himself. It wasn't there when Mingi left that morning, which leads Mingi to believe it was another gift. Maybe something Jongho wanted to surprise him with, or maybe just keep to himself.

Mingi can suffer through an hour of praise in his name, if only he gets to look at those pictures for one more minute.

Mingi didn't dress up like the locals did, in nice suits and Sundays best. He wore a normal shirt, and normal pants. He had to save energy, and every small thing counted. Buttoning a dress shirt could be the difference between every flower blooming, one for every day that he and Jongho spent apart, or the flowers not coming through.

And Mingi would give his life, just for all of those flowers to break out of the ground and weep with him.

_ You won't have to give your life. He's  _ ** _alive_ ** _ . _

The thought was like cold water running down his spine.

He's alive.

He's alive and in the same town as Mingi and Mingi would be damned if he let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

Mingi will go through the process of wooing Jongho all over again, even if it takes a hundred years, Mingi will hold his hand again.

That's all he wants, truly and deeply in his heart.

  
  


<><><><>

The church was crowded, so much so that they had to wait outside for people to shuffle inside the chapel and for room to open up for them.

The inside of the house wasn't what he expected. It had a table in the center and a bed in the corner. Puzzled, Jongho looked at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong shrugged. "They found it inside the house when they discovered the town." 

There were no pews to sit in, so they had to stand, bodies crushed together in an effort to let more people enter the room.

Jongho feels a brush on his shoulder, and finds Yeosang pulling on his sleeve. "Hey," he whispers. "Let's go look." 

Jongho wants to whisper back, say there's too many people, but Yeosang, the extrovert he is, is already pushing through the people around them, toward the bed.

When they got there, after Jongho had to apologize to every person Yeosang shoved through, the bed was small.

It was neatly made, with soft looking pillows and a checkered blanket. There was nothing else there. 

"This was not worth it." Jongho whispers, but Yeosang is already on his way to the table on the other side.

Jongho trails behind, once again apologizing for Yeosang.  _ He'll pay for this _ , Jongho thought.

The table was not just a table, but instead had drawings over it. One was apples, with a little tree in the background. It was well done, and Jongho took a moment to appreciate it.

"Dude," Yeosang says, breaking Jongho out of his stuper. "This looks just like you."

Jongho goes to decline, but then he sees the picture. The person was holding a pencil, staring straight ahead. It had his cheeks, full and round, and his lips. It was like looking in a mirror.

Jongho was stunned by the resemblance. "Yeah," he says. "Kinda does."

Yeosang nods.

The last picture was of a man. It had an outline done and some shading, but nothing else. The man had small, crinkled eyes and a wide smile. Recognition flashed in Jongho's brain, but he can't put a name to the face.

He can faintly hear Yeosang talking in the background, sounding like he's arguing.

Then it clicks.

"Mingi."

<><><><>

He was at the house.

He wasn't even hard to find, with him and his friend ( _ Gods I hope its a friend _ ) pushing through the crowd.

Mingi makes his way over, muttering out apologies as he lightly shoves through the crowd.

He still stands tall over Jongho, he realises as he stands behind him.

Mingi feels like his skin is on fire, veins coursing with adrenaline. He takes a second to just  _ appreciate  _ how he hasn't changed much. His hair is cut shorter, but that's all he can tell.

He reaches out his hand, and almost touches Jongho.

"Hey!" The friend barks out.

Mingi shocks, pulling his hand back. "I- I."

"What are you doing?" The pink haired man asks. He steps in between him and Jongho, and Mingi wants to scream, rip him away and hold Jongho in his arms.

"I- he looked familiar." He says instead, voice shaking. "I was just going to say hello-"

"We don't know anyone from here. He wouldn't know you."

Mingi wants to say  _ he would _ , but even he has some doubts. "Well, I'd like to talk to him anyways."

The friend glares. "Listen, we don't need some creep talking to us-"

"I'm not a creep, I swear-"

"And I will not let someone talk to Jongho without a good reason-"

"Please just let me-"

"Mingi."

It was faint, barely there, but it rang loudly in his ears.

That sweet honey voice, saying his name.

_ Mingi. _

Mingi was shocked. He remembers. 

When Mingi goes to talk to him, he sees the pink haired friend dragging him away.

Mingi wants to reach out. Hear Jongho say his name again and again until he's drowning in it.

Instead, he leans his head down, and cries.

He cries as Jongho is ripped away from his again, not by a town but by his own fears.

_ He remembers. _

_ What is he hates me now? _

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work, and an idea that got me out of writers block.


End file.
